I confess that, once my anger abated, I found the letter itself quite
captivating. Of course, it is merely a
framework, with the details to be filled in at another time. Fortunately for you, I excel at filling in
details, and have in fact already been able to add certain elements to your
sketch, which I believe will only sharpen its eventual implementation. I look forward to discussing the matter with
you in person.

Tell me how you have been occupying your days, other than obsessing
over this, as I know you have been. I
assume that by now you have found suitable accommodations. It is likely that, one evening near the end
of this month, I will be able to extricate myself from my family’s loving
embrace, so that we may further explore the possibilities presented in your
outline. I eagerly anticipate a grand
tour of your abode at that time.

She read it over
three times, glorying in the complete success of her request to Iris. Then she ran to her desk and wrote:

I am sorry to hear that you spent an evening in less than perfect
comfort. As I have spent the past week
in a similar state, I can empathize with what you must have gone through. I am pleased, however, that you were able to
enjoy the company of family and friends in your time of pain. I do hope their numbers were great, and that
you reveled with them far into the night before retiring to your bedchamber.

I have been passing my days in my accommodations, which are indeed most
suitable. I have been forced to make
many purchases, but the final layout is quite amenable. I have created a retreat the sort of which
I’ve always imagined – it is almost hedonistic, how much I am enjoying the bed
especially. I’m afraid I’ve become quite
lazy, lounging in its indulgent embrace far longer than I should. Perhaps, if I am feeling particularly
generous when you finally see your way clear to paying me a visit, I will
afford you a modest glance at it, so that I may have your opinion.

Time, of course, is fleeting toward that day when I return to school,
and my thoughts are much absorbed with the upcoming coursework. I imagine it will be quite strenuous, and
that I won’t be able to lie abed as I am now.
A meeting prior to the end of the month would be ideal.

As to my outline, or sketch, I was quite certain you would be able to
assist me in fleshing out the details.
Indeed, I am greatly anticipating it.
If you are delayed, perhaps you will do me the honor of owling me with some of your ideas, so that I may
incorporate them on this end prior to your arrival.

She sealed the
parchment, and assured Iris that she could easily send it in the morning. Iris gave her a sleepy hoot and folded her
head under her wing.

After another
restless night, though, Dianthus told the owl she’d had a change of heart. She spent a cheerful day puttering around the
flat, and actually took a look at her course books for the first time, which
was something of a mistake, as they were all terribly complicated and made her
feel queasy about her upcoming courses.
Braving both the recipe book and the market, she prepared a chicken
entrée that turned out to be quite tasty – even Iris agreed. After a cozy evening reading the day’s
edition of The Daily Prophet, she
turned in early and fell asleep almost immediately.

It was late the
next morning, in fact, that she finally attached the parchment to Iris’ leg and
bade her safe flight. Iris sat looking
at her for a moment, as if awaiting further instructions, but Dianthus laughed,
“Normal time is fine this trip, but hang around again, if it looks like there’s
going to be an answer.” Iris hooted and
set off at once. Dianthus’ heart rose
with the owl, as it soared into the morning sun.

Rather than
feeling despondent when over a week passed with no sign of the owl’s return,
Dianthus was ebullient. The game was
afoot, and this one she could play with much more confidence. Still, she practically tore the parchment
from Iris’ leg when it arrived Friday afternoon.

I am honored that you have made room in your busy schedule to reply to
my letter. Lounging can consume vast
quantities of time, I am told. I, on the
other hand, often find myself tied up during the day with preplanned
activities, and so must beg your pardon for my delayed response. Your owl has been my constant nighttime
companion in the interim, and although I find her conversational abilities somewhat
lacking, she is a fitting reminder of my nocturnal duties.

Your dwelling sounds most agreeable.
A retreat is an advantageous thing to have, especially when one is of a
mood to follow one’s own pleasures. Your
bed must be quite a wonder, if you are offering a glimpse of it to one such as
me. As you have piqued my interest
greatly with your mention of it, I am most desirous of offering you my
opinion. I do aspire to be the sort of
person whose opinion you will hold in close esteem.

Obviously, time constrains us both.
I am quite certain that I will be able to find a clear spot in my
schedule. However, to go into further
detail regarding your proposal would be futile.
You may well struggle with the technical nature of my suggestions, and I
must insist you not press me on them.
You are as impatient as you ever were – I can suggest you devote some
time to expanding your limited knowledge of that virtue.

“Ha!”
yelled Dianthus, triumphantly. His words
fairly shouted his irritation at her delay, though he attempted to mask it with
his fiendishly cool phrasing. She was
getting to him, then.

“Don’t go
anywhere,” she muttered to Iris, who was casting longing gazes at her
cage. Clutching Snape’s latest letter
tight in her fist, she immediately sat at the desk and wrote:

I do understand completely re:
your schedule, as my pace has been quite frantic these past few
days. In fact, I feared that the weekend
upcoming would be the same, but I believe I have finally reached a climax in my
activities, and can now rest.

Obviously I am frustrated with your unwillingness to elaborate on your
ostensible improvements. I’m quite
certain I would be able to understand the thrust of them, even without you to
supply the varied nuances in person. In
addition, as you so eloquently note, patience is not a quality I possess in
large supply. Perhaps I will take your
sage advice, and apply some hard effort to improving my talents on my own.

I would only point out that the days in which we can meet are fading,
beyond which our mutual and separate vocations will impede us.

“Here you go,” she
said, and she thrust the parchment into Iris’ beak. “Go now, quick as you can – you can rest for
a week when you get back!”

In mere hours,
Iris was flying in through the open window – she dropped the parchment from her
beak into Dianthus’ outstretched hands and noisily retreated to her cage, where
she turned her back firmly on Dianthus and shoved her head under her wing.

Dianthus sa
th
the bed and gazed at the note for a moment before opening it, turning it over
and over in her hand, running her finger over the wax seal. She raised it to her nose and sniffed – she
was sure she caught a scent of Snape on the parchment. She inhaled deeply of it before lifting the
sealed flap with slightly trembling hands.

Ah, here is the eager correspondent I have been led to expect. I am gratified by your prompt response. I do hope your solo efforts haven’t caused
you to exhaust yourself.

It would benefit you greatly, I believe, if you are able to restrain
yourself long enough to hear my ideas in person. Such an exercise might leave you feeling a
bit off-balance, of course, but in the end you may well find the result is
worth the effort. Perhaps I can be of
some assistance in this endeavor as well.

Dianthus sighed,
fell back on the bed and held the parchment to her heart. She didn’t think she could take much more,
but it was so incredibly erotic to be trading innuendoes via owl post. Must
tell Melanie how much fun this is.
She read the letter through again, slowly, savoring each word. I need
some tea, she thought, before I reply. Iris was obviously not going anywhere for a
while, so no need to hurry. And then
maybe she could get a good night’s rest.

She was dawdling
at the kitchen counter, idly fooling with the teapot, considering several different
approaches for her response, when she thought she heard her front door
open. Obviously, she was mistaken – she
securely locked that door with magic every evening, and tonight was no
exception. Even a witch has to take
precautions in London. She froze, teabag suspended above teapot,
listening hard.

She definitely
heard a soft catch as the door closed, and crept along the counter toward the
dining area. Wand raised, she poked her
head around the corner to peer across the darkened living room – and hissed
softly. A tall, hooded figure was
standing just outside her bedroom door, peeking in, obviously hoping to find
someone there.

“Don’t you fucking
move,” Dianthus said coldly, stepping out from the kitchen, and pointing her
wand directly at the figure’s back – but the figure turned her direction
anyway. Dianthus took a deep breath,
ready to cast an immobilizing hex upon the intruder. Then she heard the low, throaty laugh that
she knew only too well.

“It’s late,
Dianthus,” Snape said softly, advancing slowly upon her. He unfastened his traveling cloak as he came,
and draped it over her couch as he passed it in the dark. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“You fucking
asshole,” she gasped, “I could have killed you!” She leaned against the wall and put one hand
over her chest. Her heart was still
going a mile a minute.

“Mmm…I’ve missed you, too,” he said sleekly, gently tugging
the wand from her raised hand. He tossed
it casually over his shoulder – but she wasn’t surprised when she heard it land
directly on the living room table.

“How did you get
through my locks?” she demanded, pushing at his hands, which were tugging her
robes up over her knees.

“We can discuss
the shameful inadequacy of your wards later,” he murmured, turning her to face
the wall. “For now, let’s play, shall
we?”